


Wake Up, Little Brother

by magicbubblepipe



Category: The Outsiders - All Media Types, The Outsiders - S. E. Hinton
Genre: Blow Jobs, First Time, M/M, Mutual Pining, Ponypop, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-27
Updated: 2015-06-27
Packaged: 2018-04-06 09:51:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4217133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicbubblepipe/pseuds/magicbubblepipe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ponyboy's used to having nightmares but he's never dealt with a dream like this before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wake Up, Little Brother

**Author's Note:**

> Read the tags first, please.

It’s darkness all around him and he’s helpless, screaming and somebody’s grabbing him, gripping his arms and shaking him. “Ponyboy.” His name echoes in the darkness. Louder, “Ponyboy!”

He wakes with a start, shivering, wide eyes searching through the dark. Hands not shaking him anymore, soothing, rubbing his chest.

“Pony,” soft voice, Sodapop. His brother’s face comes into focus, line of worry between his brows.

Pony lets out a breath, the leaden weight on his chest starting to ease. “Soda,” he rasps, voice hoarse from calling out. A frisson of sudden fear, “I didn’t wake Darry, did I?”

“Nah, he’s sleepin’ like a log,” Soda replies. There’s just enough moonlight to make out his pretty, pretty smile. Pony tries to smile back. Soda brushes the sweat sticky hair off his little brother’s forehead and lies back down behind him.

He moves into position without having to ask, draping his arm around Ponyboy and snuggling up into his space, hugging him protectively against his chest. He pushes his face into the soft mess of Pony’s hair and lets out a sigh. Pony feels safer immediately but his tension refuses to drain away, the nightmare hanging around him still. Leave it to Sodapop to read his mind.

“Relax, I got you,” he says, gentling a kiss to the nape of his neck.

And wouldn’t you just know it; his traitorous eyes pick that moment to start crying. Pony feels ashamed of himself but he can’t help it. He doesn’t even know what he’s crying about really, if it’s from being scared or from being relieved. Come to think, he doesn’t even know what he was scared of. It’s not like he can ever remember that damn dream.

Soda would never make fun of him though and he’d never tell a soul. He shushes him gently, rubbing his hand up and down, up and down his side. Pony loves him so much his heart aches.

“You’re safe, honey,” Sodapop whispers, “It can’t hurt you no more.”

Ponyboy turns over into his embrace and wraps his arms around his brother, pushing his wet face into the crook of his neck. Soda doesn’t mind, just accommodates, holds him closer and kisses his hair.

…

            Ponyboy must fall asleep at some point because this is definitely a dream. No one in the waking world has ever touched him like this before. Hands sliding down his chest, thumbing at his nipples, scratching nails down his shivering ribcage. The hands feel familiar but he can’t place them, he’s too distracted. He realizes that he’s hard. Throbbing hard and the hands on his body are teasing closer and closer to where he wants them. He wiggles his hips around, pleading for friction until he finally finds something solid and warm to grind against.

            Sodapop, meanwhile, is dragged out of sleep by the heat and hardness of his little brother’s erection digging into his lower stomach. This is not the first time one or the other has woken up like this. Being a teenage boy does have disadvantages. Sleepily, Soda tries to gently extricate himself from Pony’s embrace, though his own body is more than willing to press closer.

            Pony makes a grumpy sound low in his throat and tosses a leg over Soda’s hip. Soda’s pretty awake now, his heart beating quick as he tries to figure out what to do. Waking the kid up would probably embarrass him but he’s found a new angle now, thrusting into the crease of Sodapop’s thigh and groin and if that continues much longer they’ll both be pretty embarrassed.

            Just then, Darry’s knocking twice and flinging the door open, coming to their rescue like a boisterous knight in a ratty tank top. “Up and at ‘em,” he calls, padding away into the kitchen to start breakfast.

            Ponyboy finally stirs at the noise, grunting and rolling over. Soda lets out a sigh of relief and scrambles out of bed and toward a cold shower.

…

            Pony’s restless night makes it difficult to pay attention in school. He’s so smart and he usually enjoys learning but he’s so tired he can barely make heads or tails out of any of his assignments. His English teacher notices and asks him if he’s alright, wants to know if things are okay at home. At this, Pony bristles, can’t help the feeling that every adult around him is just itching to put him and Soda in a boy’s home.

            “I’m alright,” he says, his smile a bit contrived, “I think I may be comin’ down with something is all.”

            He has to repeat this excuse a few more times throughout the day until he can finally go home. He walks toward his house with Johnny Cade in companionable silence. Johnny kicks a can over to him in lieu of conversation and Pony kicks it back. He’s grateful things are so easy between them.

            The Curtis home is empty when they get in, his brothers both off at work. “You hungry?” he asks Johnny, heading into the kitchen.

            Johnny nudges his toe against the living room rug, “Sure, man,” he says reluctantly, like he doesn’t want to be a bother.

            Looking through the fridge, Pony reports back that they have some chocolate cake (made by Darry so it’s not too sweet) and some meatloaf from last night (made by Soda so it’s not too dry). Both boys opt for cake and a couple of Pepsis, arranging themselves in front of the television to watch Gilligan’s Island.

            Pony winds up lying back on the couch after he’s finished eating, his restless mind still dwelling on his dream. Not the nightmare, he’s used to that one. What he’s not used to are phantom hands ghosting over his body, making him moan and writhe and wake up hard, covered in sweat, still with that distinct feeling of familiarity. Even thinking about it makes him blush, his breath coming out in short bursts.

            “You okay?” Johnny asks from his place on the floor. Pony startles, having almost forgotten the other boy was there.

            Ponyboy rolls onto his side away from Johnny to hide the unmistakable bulge in his jeans. “I’m fine.”

            “You gonna take a nap?”

            “Pro’lly,” Pony says, feeling equal parts uncomfortable and exhausted.

            “I’m gonna hang here for a while, okay?” Johnny asks as though it would ever not be okay.

            “Sure thing, Johnnycake.”

            Pony’s asleep before he knows it. Once again, he’s lying down, another person hovering over him. The hands on his skin are more detailed now, young but a little calloused, slender but strong. Bigger than Pony’s. Boy hands. Pony shudders, the thought making him flush harder.

            “Ponyboy…” a whisper against his skin and suddenly he knows. He knows the hands and he knows the voice.   
            “Sodapop,” he gasps, hardly able to believe it’s true. And then he can see him, warmth of his brown eyes, the glitter of his smile and the sunlight in his golden hair.

            “WAKE UP!” Hands rough around his ankles, yanking him nearly off the couch.

            Pony’s arms flail and he yelps, struggling to sit up. Two-Bit releases his ankles and whoops out a ridiculous laugh. Luckily, having the living hell scared out of him greatly diminished the erection he’d had a moment ago or Two-Bit would have had something else to laugh at.

            “I told him not to,” Johnny says quietly, lifting his shoulder in a shrug.

            “S’okay,” Ponyboy slurs, dragging his hands down his face.

            “You sick or somethin’?” Two-Bit asks, suddenly looking serious. Always a startling expression to see on his face

            “Yeah, I think so,” Pony says drily, “Real sick.”

            The noise of Steve’s hoop-hollering issues through the screen door, heralding his noisy arrival. Soda comes strolling in just after him, already holding his shoes in his hand. He meets Pony’s eyes and breaks out into a grin. Ponyboy’s stomach does an acrobatic swoop.

“Hey Pony, how ya doin’?”

“Kid says he’s sick,” Two-Bit answers for him and the smile drops immediately from Soda’s face.

Ponyboy flushes madly, scrambling for something to say. His brother kneels down beside him and puts his hand on Pony’s forehead, then the backs of his knuckles against his cheeks.

“You do feel warm,” he proclaims, worry creasing his brow.

_Thank the embarrassment for that_ , Pony thinks. “I’ll be okay, Soda,” he says. The last thing he wants is to be more of a pain than he already is.

“You just hang here on the couch and I’ll go make some soup,” he says in a tone that brooks no argument. “And if these hoodlums get too loud, you have my permission to tell ‘em to shut the hell up.”

He smiles helplessly as Soda turns to head into the kitchen. He’s doomed.

...

            Soda passes on the news of Pony’s illness to Darry when he gets home and he performs his own round of inspections. Makes him stick out his tongue and shines a light to the back of his throat, presses fingertips into the glands under his jaw to see if they’re swollen. He wants to take his temperature for real but the only thermometer they have is a rectal one so Ponyboy swears up and down that he’s really feeling much better now and he should be fine in the morning.

            “Get to bed early, then,” Darry says, still looking skeptical, “Take it easy tomorrow too. We can’t afford no doctor bills right now.”

            “I will,” he promises, just happy to avoid the cold glass and petroleum jelly.

            “C’mon,” Soda says, hair still damp from the shower. He slings his arm around Pony’s shoulders and guides him to their bedroom.

            Under the covers, Ponyboy’s facing away from Soda when his brother asks if he wants him to rub his back. Deep down, he knows that’s probably the worst idea but he says yes anyway. Sodapop slides closer and puts his palm flat between Pony’s shoulder blades, feels the younger boy let out a sigh. His hand starts moving in broad circles, working out the tension that’s built up over the course of the day. Then he uses his fingers, drawing aimless shapes and words across the landscape of Pony’s t-shirt.

            His last waking thought is that he really loves Soda a whole lot.

…

            Soda wakes up to his name being called in the darkness of his room. He sits up in bed, heart beating fast and then he hears it again. Pony’s shifting around next to him, face flushed pink, eyebrows drawn together as he pants.

            “Soda…” Another bad dream? Or is his fever back?

            Soda grabs Pony’s shoulder, shaking him gently. “Wake up, Pony. You’re dreamin’ again.”

            “Please, Soda,” Pony whispers back, tossing his head on the pillow.

            “Wake up, little brother,” Soda insists, jostling Pony a little harder this time.

            Then Pony lets out a sound like a moan and his hips lift off of the bed. With a lurching heart, Soda realizes that his brother isn’t having a nightmare. A glance to the boy’s groin confirms his suspicion and he can’t believe he didn’t notice the erection tenting up the thin sheet sooner. Soda bites his lip, conflict warring inside of him. If he wakes him up, it could be awkward but then again, if Ponyboy was having a wet dream about him, perhaps Soda would be able to…alleviate the tension.

            Before he can make a decision, Ponyboy rolls over and presses his body along Soda’s, groaning in relief as his dick meets the warmth of his brother’s belly. Soda gasps and clenches a hand on Pony’s hipbone, rocking his own growing arousal against him. Pony’s movements suddenly cease and Soda can feel the boy’s eyes on him, feel the panic start to thrum through his body.

            “It’s okay,” Soda reassures because that’s what he does.

           “Soda,” Pony’s voice is hoarse, cracking in the middle, like he’s on the verge of tears. Soda hates for him to cry, especially if he can help.

            “Shh,” he soothes, placing a gentle hand on Pony’s chest. He pushes him down onto his back and props up on his elbow to look at him.

            Pony’s eyes are huge and wide, glistening wet in the dark. His lips are pink and parted, trembling just a little so Soda kisses them. Pony gasps into the shock of his brother’s mouth, plush lips pressing warm and wet against his own. His head is spinning and he clutches at Soda’s shirt, holds on for dear life as his mouth is finally opened by a probing, curious tongue.

            Soda pulls back slowly and licks the taste of Ponyboy off his lips; kissing him had been even sweeter than he had imagined. Pony blinks up at him, pupils huge and black, cheeks stained pink and Soda can’t resist diving back down for another kiss and then another. Pony’s sighing into him now, fingers threading through his hair, tongue sliding gentle and sweet against his own.

            Trailing a hand down Pony’s stomach, he carefully rests his palm over the hard heat of his straining cock. The surprised yelp Pony makes is swallowed up by Sodapop who sucks Pony’s lower lip into his mouth, rolling it between his teeth as he starts to massage him through his underwear. Ponyboy trembles, his thighs spreading to make more room for his brother’s hand.

            Soda kisses the corner of Pony’s mouth, over the jut of his chin and down to the soft white curve of his neck. Pony makes a helpless little sound, arching under him as Soda kisses lower down his naked chest.

            “What do you dream about, Pony?” Soda whispers against the dip of his navel.

            It takes a moment for Ponyboy to find his words. He swallows and says with a quivering voice, “I dream ‘bout you touchin’ me.”

            Soda’s cock jerks in his briefs and he flicks his tongue against Pony’s bellybutton. “My hands?”

            “Y-yes.”

            Tongue dragging down toward Pony’s waistband, making him shiver. “My mouth?”

            Ponyboy whimpers, head nodding emphatically. “Glory. Yes.”

            Smiling, Soda presses an open kiss to the damp fabric stretched over the head of Pony’s dick. Pony’s whole body jerks like he’s been electrocuted. “Lie still and I’ll take care of you, okay?”

            Pony replies with a near silent, “ _Please_.”

            Soda gets his fingers under the waistband of Pony’s underwear and pulls them down enough to get his cock free. He lets out a breath at the first sight of his beautiful brother’s erection, sweetly pink and wet and utterly perfect. He drags his tongue languidly up the length, stopping to lick the pre-come off the tip. Ponyboy makes a sound like he’s dying, his cock pulsing out more and more slick. Soda eagerly gets his whole mouth around him, sucking him gently.

            He has to brace an arm across the boy’s hips to keep himself from getting choked as he slowly swallows him down to the base. Pony’s babbling incoherently, begging and swearing as Soda starts to bob his head up and down, paying special attention to the nerves just under the crown. Soda hums contentedly, knowing Pony will feel the vibrations and starts to suck a little harder.

            Pony tangles his fingers up in Soda’s hair, not pulling or pushing but holding on tight. The breathless little sounds he’s making go straight to Soda’s dick but this is about Ponyboy right now. With his free hand, he cups Pony’s flushed, tight balls and strokes them with his thumb, pulling just a little. The only warning he gets is an exclamation of his name before the cock in his mouth swells further and jerks, coming in thick bursts down his throat.

            He moans around the heady taste of his brother, sucking him through it. Pony’s muscles are spasming under his hands, the boy’s desperate, keening noises trapped between the teeth clenched in the skin of his own wrist. When the tremors subside, Soda pulls off with a wet little noise and gently tucks the boy’s softening cock back into his underwear.

            When he looks up at Pony, he’s staring at him dazedly, eyes heavy lidded and mouth bitten red. He’s acutely aware of his own very hard and very aching dick but feels like a letch for mentioning it.

            “Pony, do you mind if I do something?” he asks, looking nervous and a little ashamed.

            “Soda, you can do whatever you want,” Pony says, voice slow and fucked out. “Anything. I mean it.”

            Soda can’t help the smile that breaks out over his face. He loves this kid so much. “Turn over for me, honey.”

            Pony does as he’s told, switching over onto his stomach. Soda reaches out and palms the curves of his tight little ass and groans. He tucks the boy’s underwear down just under his cheeks, kneading the silky soft skin with one hand while he pulls out his own cock. He blankets himself down over his brother and at the first slide of skin on skin, he knows this isn’t going to last long.

            He tucks his head down against the back of Pony’s neck and drags his dick along the sweat-damp crease of his ass. He lets out a guttural moan he hopes isn’t too loud and Pony presses back against him in encouragement. Soda starts thrusting in earnest, imagining how mind-blowingly good it would be to actually be inside him, snug and hot inside Pony’s body, making him writhe and moan around him. The coiling heat inside him chooses that moment to explode and he comes harder than he ever has across the skin of his little brother’s ass, white ropes all the way up his back.

            He can’t help but to collapse on top of him for a minute, working his hips in slow circles as the waves of pleasure course through him. Peppering little kisses anywhere he can reach, he asks Pony if he’s okay.

            Pony chuckles shyly. “A little better than okay,” he hesitates before saying, “I uh…I came again.”

            Soda’s not sure whether to laugh or moan so he sort of does both before slowly peeling himself off of Pony’s back. He strips off his ruined t-shirt and thoroughly wipes the both of them clean. He can feel Ponyboy starting to drift off to sleep but he grabs him around the waist pulling him out of the wet spot he’s lying in.

            Pony curls up easily on Soda’s chest and presses a sloppy kiss right over his heart. “Love ya, Soda,” he slurs, sleep already pulling him down.

            Soda smiles around a yawn, draping his arm around his brother. “I love you too, Pony.”

           

**Author's Note:**

> So that happened...   
> I have a weakness for Ponypop, what can I say?


End file.
